External Damages TF:Prime
by andshecryz
Summary: Ratchet x Oc
1. Good to Hear

**Disclaimer: Transformer character names belong to Hasbro Studios, Steven Puri, Mandy Safavi (and so on) unless stated an OC which in case belong to the author, andshecryz. No copyright infringement is intended. Plagiarism is theft so is prohibited. Do not copy or create a reproduction of this work in any language without express written authorization of the author, andshecryz. Thank you...Please enjoy c:**

Oc x Ratchet

**A/N; Hope you guys enjoy! I'm going to attempt yet another long fic. This takes place in the Prime universe during the war of Cybertron. **_If you are interested in learning more about my OC, Renova, you can see her on my DeviantArt page featured on my FanFiction profile._

**Terminology You Might Not Know;**

**Solar cycle; Measurement of time equivalent to an Earth day.**

**Scrap; A slang term, moreover a Cybertronian curse word. (Shit)**

**Glossa; Cybertronian term for the tongue.**

**Frag; A slang term, moreover a Cybertronian curse word. (Fu**)**

**Primus; Cybertronian deity/personification of Cybertron itself.**

**~Enjoy**

**Ch. 1; Good to Hear**

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_**Frozen Point of The War**_

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"Ratchet...you are alright. That is very good to see." Renova looked to the returning Medic with a timid smile, her optics swiveling to enhance her focus as the femme clasped her hand servos at her front.

"Indeed. I could say the same for you, Nova." He placed a heavy hand on her plated shoulder; giving a pathetic attempt at reassurance to his more than experienced student. The war was at a standstill, no word or action being executed by the Decepticons as they lie in wait for the first move. Even scouts came back with no valid word, visible or verbal as each returning Bot stood unscathed and silent...as if traumatized by the sheer sensation of a long forgotten peace. Optimus had advised them to take advantage of the time, using it to scour for leftover energon and seek for injured Autobots...even 'Cons that were left to rust in the depths of Cybertron.

They had nothing...the least they could use was the smallest bit of information.

"I am incapable of providing any help...the currently wounded are not placed within my line of expertise."

"Understandable. Then we must continue our research. It'll give everyone something to-"

"-Ratchet...I...have decided." That wary tone of hesitant interruption had already specified her answer. A sinking feeling of comprehension manifested in the other as he stared with wide optics at the femme. He had already known of her conflicting emotions within reference to the war...and recently she had been deciphering in which side she would take. It made the older Medic feel uneasy to know that she would even consider becoming a Decepticon...a femme who sought tranquility and aid. Someone who studied medicine and biology in order to help those who required it.

"And your choice?" He could feel his wiring tense out of anxiety, almost pain to listen to the final decision of her contradictions. She was free to choose, of course, and she'd already been given a valid offer as a Medic to the Decepticons long ago, before the violent aspects of the war had taken place. Yet, if she chose their side...it might tear him apart. Even worse; end with her undeserved exile or perhaps termination. It would be seen as an unforgettable treason...a stiff betrayal.

"I have decided to continue as neutral."

_Neutral?_

Her answer surprised him, causing the mech to look to the lightly colored femme with a stare of disbelief and minor suspicion. She was never one to remain neutral in any argument, much less a situation that called for a one-sided decision...she always had a certain point of view whether it be rational or not, a view of peace and agreement. Yet what had always impressed the Medic, even with her rather blatant tone and behavior, was her persistence and will towards a nonviolent lifestyle.

"W-...Wh-What? Do you realize that almost all of the neutral congregations have been offlined?" He took a heavy step forward; his optics narrowing as if he were reprimanding the baby blue femme for her life-changing decision. He pointed a stiff finger towards the blank wall, trying to gesture to those leftover Cybertronians who had chosen no side and were demolished on sight as if an Autobot. Decepticons might have showed their own enemies more sympathy than those who refused the battles entirely; seeing them as cowards for refusing to fight for their benefit and beliefs. Those without a cause or reason, or the Excess, were given no chance by either side in such drastic and senseless times. They had no insignia, and they were vulnerable.

"I understand that! I know! I am not a sparkling, Ratchet!"

"Then why are you going out there with no side?" He accentuated his pointed finger with malice, angry at the femme for her sudden purge of ignorance. He wouldn't allow her to choose suicide over his own grouping...as selfish as he seemed it was truly an act of care...of responsibility. He was her mentor. Her creator was offlined...and he assigned himself the burden of not only teaching her, but looking after the youth as well.

"Because I do not belong here! And neither do you. Come with me and Alia..."

"Alia-four is going as well?"

"As of now it appears so. Should it matter to you? You seem so caught up with Orion-"

"-Optimus."

"Whatever. That just proves my point. How do you even know _'Optimus'_ is battling for peace? He battled for equality among our race...and look how that turned out!"

"So you blame the last remaining Prime for Megatron's corruption and spite? Is that how shallow you truly are? Is it all some kind of humorless joke to you Renova?"

"You know me better than any Bot among us. I am not shallow, nor am I a joker. I am simply being realistic in consideration of our supposed leader." She crossed her arms stingily, becoming aggravated with her old friend and teacher. He wasn't giving her a fair choice...and he knew that.

"If you doubt him so much then maybe you _should_ leave!"

"Why don't you just _interface_ with the mech already? All you do is talk about your_faith_ in Optimus, and the _amazing_ Optimus, and the greatly _intelligent_ Optimus! Take a look around you Ratchet! There are less than fifty of us who are not so drastically scattered...how can one single mech, Prime or _not_, fix all of this? We are beyond corruption; there is nothing substantial to live off of! Our home is dead and we can barely live and strive off of its remains! What other proof do you require?"

Renova choked on a dry sob; her hand tensed and extended towards the door of the darkened medical room as if showing him what he seemed to be missing. Her chestplate was heaving from the rambled speech she'd executed, and her optics were narrowed in what seemed to be a foul mixture of pity and misunderstanding. She wanted him to come with her...she wanted Ratchet to comprehend what reality was exposing to them...and yet his hopeful and stern sense of nature was getting in the way. It had always been a lovely side of the usually crass and strict mech...yet now, in the frozen point of a dreadful war, it was nothing but a hindrance. A nuisance to their relationship; to their completely opposite beliefs.

She strived for tranquility because, as a Medic, she brought it...and at one point she had so wrongly doubted its affect. There was a time where she'd encouraged violence to ensure equality...and had sided among Megatron's followers in hopes of obtaining an easy solution, but the femme had quickly found that there was no such thing for their already crumbling society. After the first strike of death and fear and pain...Renova realized she was dreadfully incorrect in her once strong-set belief.

The uprising group battling for justice and hope, the Autobots, had encouraged her of their positive intentions...and as Ratchet joined them she saw fit to follow. Yet now, even on the side of the supposed 'good guys', she found nothing but elimination and demand, something just as vile as the murder and thievery of their enemies. neutrality was becoming a much brighter and much more stable alternative each solar cycle, as if a calling.

"You've lost all hope, Nova."

"There was never any hope to begin with. Maybe if the original members of the High Council were online, but we cannot bring people back from the dead."

"We're _Medics_...that's our job description!" Ratchet's disbelief was obvious within the tone of his voice. He was just presented with a failed attempt to fully recover a fellow 'Bot...and in all honesty Renova wasn't helping the already distraught mood brought upon him.

"That is outrageous. When did you become_outrageous_, Ratchet? You were never so-"

"-Where do you think you'll go?"

"What?" He seemed to calm down, the once livid emotions that burned in the pit of his transistors being dulled with the realization of his pupil's unavoidable leave. She wouldn't change her mind...that much was obvious. It was her nature to be so hard-helmed...and so ignorantly independent. "Well Roller implied-"

"-Wait. _Roller?_ As in _Toproller? _You're trusting that scrap-head of a Bot to lead you into an unfamiliar neutrality?" The older began laughing, that thick sound she'd once found reassuring was now something that resembled sarcasm and caused aggravation. It proved to the femme that everything had indeed changed, everything was now foreign and rash...even her own mentor. "His knowledge is just overshadowed by his stupidity."

"You should be jealous. He is a brave mech with good intentions!"

"J-jealous? What's there to be jealous of?"

He watched as her optics roamed the dimly lit room as if looking for some witty reply.

"Hi-His...bravery is quite impressive."

"You already said that!" His tone was humorously accusing, yet still being firm and unwavering. Toproller was a young, insensitive, naive scout...a scout who could barely count much less lead a group. A handsome, silver mech with speed and will, too much determination, and a sense of bravery only in hopes of impressing the femmes and his superiors. In some odd form...Ratchet _was_ jealous. _Mildly_.

"Do _not_ test me, Ratchet!"

"_Test_ you? If I was going to test you I'd give you a spark chamber and a laser-scalpel! You're no good as an Excess, Renova! You belong here, doing what you do best! For once just listen to me!"

"I would be perfect as an Excess. And you would be as well. I am disappointed to hear that you look at neutrals as if meager. We are sure to change your perspective."

"No, you're sure to make me worry more than I already do!"

"I do not understand what there is to worry about! I am no longer your student...I am a prodigy you were lucky enough to assist in teaching!" She bit her glossa. She hadn't meant that.

"Hmph. That's how you see it? Well I _can't wait_ for you to experience life outside these headquarters. Don't expect any sympathy when you're crawling back for safety!" The Medic turned away from her; waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder as he attempted to blow off the younger's argument. She'd insulted him to a new found maximum...in fact the mech couldn't recall any argument that they'd shared where something so degrading and arrogant had left her lip components. But he would ignore the remark as if nothing...because she would realize the unnoticed idiocy behind her words. She usually did.

He shook his head patiently while his student's servos fisted tightly at her sides and she huffed crassly; for once sounding like the moody blue and silver femme she truly was rather than the calmly composed nurse she expressed herself to be.

"I would do no such thing." Her tone was backed by a harsh temperament he'd never seen Renova exhibit before. She was pressured into this by her own guilt...he could tell. Just by the intense glare that literally radiated from her optics he was able to see the fear that was hidden in the deepest areas of her wiring. She didn't really want to go through with this...Renova knew the dangers...she recognized the consequences. But why would she act with such an unstable and thoughtless plan?

That of course was not like her. She simply felt aloof...separated from everyone else because of her one mistake that many before her had made. At one point she _trusted _Megatron...she _followed _Megatron...she _defended _Megatron...and now she was an Autobot? Nova felt as if she didn't belong, and that was because no one treated her like the gifted Medic she was. They all watched her warily because of her well-known participation alongside the 'Cons...expecting some kind of traitorous action as if the femme were a spy. She was uncomfortable here...with them...with _him_. And she refused to encourage violence...so what better way to end her troubles than remaining with no side?

Ratchet remained silent.

"Why is this so hard for you to accept?"

He didn't move...he only pressed his optics closed in hopes that this was all some stupid phase she would quickly outgrow. Renova was still young...only several vorns out of the academy and into the war. He couldn't allow someone who had no clue as to what they were doing go out and make such a rushed and uncertain decision. Especially not her.

"Because you don't know what you're doing, Nova!"

"Do not insult-"

"It's the truth! Have you ever considered the fact that you're just defiant against anyone above you? All of your professors, Optimus, even _me_? Perhaps that's why they kicked you out of the academy just before the final semester!"

"...I did not need them. It does not matter...I am still online. They are not. A prodigy should not need any titles anyway. I still have my reputation. You can strip a warrior of his armor, but he is still a warrior."

"I pray to Primus that your arrogance doesn't get you offlined."

"My arrogance? What about your selfish demeanor?"

"Selfish? I _care_ about you Renova!"

"Care? I do not need you, or that Prime, or anyone! I refuse to battle. I will not take a life over a simple disagreement!"

Ratchet just stared at her; optics wide and mouth slightly agape at her stupidity. She was drowning in a pool of denial and devastation. Falling apart in false hopes that this was all just a shitty dream. He shook his head...if he let her go...then she certainly wouldn't come back. Not online, anyway. Her peaceful standards were impossible to maintain within such a disgusting part of an everlasting war. She was so naive in thinking that something this large; something this grotesque and distorted could be cleaned up and fixed within little time.

Through her stubborn and yet serene morality Renova wouldn't kill a Bot...and in turn they _would _kill her. He wouldn't accept that. She was too...important.

"You're so smart. I don't understand." He laughed dryly at his own confusion; a perplexity that had been throbbing at the base of his processor since the beginning of their argument. Even after all these vorns of working side by side, teaching her, guiding her, taking care of and reassuring her...he still couldn't understand her. Perhaps she was just one of those bots...one of those beings that you couldn't make out or figure without questioning them until there was nothing left to answer.

But...he knew who she was.

He knew everything about her, all that she was, who she fought to be. He knew what she knew, what she loved, her personality, every opinion she'd ever voiced...who she respected and who she hated. Ratchet knew this tiny femme like a wrench...he even knew what parts she was composed of. He was fully aware of her uncertainty even if she swore on the spark of Primus that she'd made up her mind and set her priorities straight. She was afraid...terrified to a new extent. And she should be.

But...he still couldn't fragging understand her.

"Smart? I am a genius. You have always been proud of that..."

Large blue optics looked to the floor as she mentally sighed, her spark pounding from her mixed emotions and her internal cooling fans trying to turn on in response to her heated figure. She beckoned them not to. That little click that signaled they were active caused her faceplates to heat even more...the feeling of embarrassment familiar yet still degrading in the presence of her teacher. That's when she recognized her uncouth behavior. Renova would not fall victim to her own unsettled emotions of spite and rage...not anymore.

Guilt now dragged her down...those words she'd screamed being stupid and unnecessarily rash. Although the femme knew Ratchet would go unfazed by her measly comments and thoughtless opinions...she still felt terrible. Ratchet was both smart and wise, a combination only pulled together with time, experience, and patience that very few achieved. He was calm when the time called for it...and demanding when needed. A little moody, but still fully composed. She envied that aspect about him...how he was capable of being so collected during drastic or terrifying times. She was incapable of it and would panic when things hit rock bottom. He would simply work through it, as if something meager that anyone could easily progress through. Perhaps that was why he was the mentor and she was still his pupil. His _only_ pupil.

He wasn't lucky to have her..._she_ was lucky to have him.

"...I have always valued your opinion. Even now."

And that was what bothered her. That feeling that was once just a simple adoration and respect was slowly aching to become something larger. Like the first spark of a fire finally catching a reason to grow and expand. She had been acting stupid in their argument...as she usually did when they fought...and that enlightened those bugging aches within the pit of her transistors.

"I thought you didn't need me." He huffed a sarcastic laugh and leant against the wall; watching as she bit into her lower lip component and fought past her foul attitude. She'd seen his response as an attack...but it was only a defense...one that was desperately trying to get her to stay to ensure her safety. Renova had responded as if a sparkling, and he knew it all too well.

"You tell me often to watch my mouth. I believe that I should finally begin to take your advice." The blue femme managed a smile; her optics avoiding his as he again shook his head and sighed.

"It's about time." Ratchet chuckled; taking quick notice as she approached him with a distant expression, one that exposed the uncertain emotions he knew she battled internally.

So stubborn.

So naive.

Yet, mature...and beyond intelligent. There were cycles where he found the combination terrible, somewhat discouraging by her behavior. But most of the time he found the mix enlightening. Rather giddy in her hopes of learning and problem solving.

Even now that expression of guilt on her faceplate made up for her insufferable egotism. She was sorry...but she wouldn't voice her apology. Renova would simply change the subject as she usually did when proven wrong or feeling uneasy.

"That scout...Bumblebee. Were you able to successfully revive him?" Ratchet held back a heavy sigh; trying to avoid giving off a false message. Yes, he saved Bumblebee. No...he wasn't completely successful. Bee hadn't deserved to lose his vocal processor...especially not to Megatron. The entire situation made Ratchet uncomfortable; seeing a young Bot, only a few vorns older than Renova, lay in a tortured state that at first glance promised a slow demise. He couldn't have saved his voice...but he did save his life.

"Bumblebee will be fine."

Renova forced a solemn smile.

"That is good to hear."

**~End Chapter One**

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**Alright, it's complete. c:**

**So chapter one is up, hopefully I'll have some followers who would enjoy to see our cranky Medic with some random oc. :D**

**Please Review!**

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**If you would like to see Renova please visit my DeviantArt page featured on my FF profile. I would greatly appreciate it! c:**


	2. Of Course Not

**Oc x Ratchet**

**Terminology You Might Not Know;**

**Solar cycle; Measurement of time equivalent to an Earth day.**

**Orn; Measurement of time equivalent to thirteen Earth days.**

**Primus; Cybertronian deity/personification of Cybertron itself.**

**~Enjoy**

**Ch. 2; Of Course Not**

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**Examination Room  
**

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"We were never violent...What happened to us?" Alia-four set the palm of her servo against the glass of the medical room, looking out the tinted window with narrowed optics and a faint frown. Her gaze focused on the polluted sky and dim atmosphere; tainted by the smoke excreted by firearms and offlined bodies that literally covered their poisoned planet. She sighed, looking over her plated shoulder to Renova as if expectant of an answer.

"Alia, we have always been violent. Do you honestly believe that such a vast amount of our population would willingly offline the rest because told? Everyone reacted violently because they wanted to. We never use the animalistic side of our processors...so it was a perfect opportunity to let it loose."

"That's…sad."

"Yes. It is."

"Do you think this is the best choice?" Alia grimaced; scratching at the green of her armor with a hidden anxiety she had yet to voice. She was...unsure...moreover convinced that their change of side would bring some kind of undeserved karma against them. The femme just carried a feeling of panic within her transistors for an unspecified reason, as if regretful or damaged. She'd considered it a glitch of some sort, perhaps a malfunction or virus moving past her firewalls and infiltrating her processor. Whatever it was it caused an uneasy feeling to itch at her inner components.

"...Yes."

"You're lying." The lime colored automobile narrowed her optics at her best friend, watching the seeker inspect a laser scalpel before packing it within a metal traveling cube.

"Not really."

"You'll miss him." Alia swallowed.

"Who? Toproller? He is taking us, Al."

"No you scrap-head! Ratchet!"

Due to the drastic changes there had been many things swirling around Renova's processor...several of which she hadn't wanted to think of that day, and Ratchet being one of the top five. Specifically labeled number two on the list of uncomfortable topics that Alia would more than likely morph into a heated argument. Hell, even Cliffjumper or Ironhide would bring it up just to start the usual bickering.

"Oh...Ratchet."

"Yes. Ratchet." Large blue orbs watched her academy friend place both servos on her hips as if expecting an answer, almost demanding one with the simple tension of her body language.

"Somewhat."

"You're just going to leave him? He taught you everything you know." Alia's purple-tinged optics narrowed with disbelief at the Medic; the tires at her ankles spinning from the usual emotional spikes and energy rushes. She was a tough scout, rather paranoid at times and had a tendency to fidget…but overall she was Renova's best friend, close enough to be a sister and too close to judge.

"What is your point?" The blue femme muttered her answer rather spitefully. She wasn't in any particular mood to converse about her emotional problems...but it seemed that was where their little spit was leading.

"We shouldn't go."

"Why are you suddenly so determined to stay? You have seen what they do to each other...there is no good side. Unless you enjoy having to shoot random Bots down we should leave." The other held her breath at Nova's explanation...recalling her scouting mission the orn before. She had found her creator offlined among a scattered group of immobile bodies, none functioning and all gray. Morbid, was the only word that had come to mind. That and the nauseating feeling that had nearly forced the femme to purge her digestive tanks.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Alia, no offense, but you always have a bad feeling in the pit of your regulation core."

"Nova this is different! I swear to Primus! We should at least stay another few solar cycles." The Medic managed a light sigh, her sympathy keeping the femme from groaning out of agitation. Alia-four had never made her as irritated as she was now, never so rigid and annoyed. They had been friends since the beginning of their academy days and neither had ever faced a violent disagreement...not like Nova and Ironhide did. That was a completely different story.

One that included violence and energon.

"Fine. If it makes you happy I will talk to Roller. Do not expect the best of outcomes..." Alia managed a smile.

"I know you don't wanna leave."

"And what, _my dear scout_, makes you say that?" Renova raised a quizzical, metal brow as she leaned her aft against the table; hunching over to relieve her stiff spinal cables.

"I see the way you look at _him._ Even though you say you aren't attached...I know you are. You always give him that special look."

"_Special_ look?" Renova chuckled at the comment, obviously confused at the random notion that her best friend was voicing. Her reaction was that of a woman listening to a child ramble on over a topic they had no knowledge of...humored.

"Yea...it's obviously reserved for him." Alia grinned wholeheartedly and leant against the wall; her arms crossed and optics swiveling to better her focus.

"And who is _'he'_ exactly?" The blue femme couldn't contain her consistent laughter as she covered her lip components with a servo; figuring her friend was speaking of Ironhide. Hadn't the automobile known that the expression was rage? Moreover aggravation?

"Ratchet, who else?"

Renova paused. It suddenly wasn't funny anymore...because now, after much consideration in a few quick moments; she questioned it. And now, after much more reasonable arguments with her own mind, she denied it; leading the Medic to condone that her denial was caused by partial belief. Ratchet was...her mentor. Her care taker...nothing close to a surrogate-creator, but nothing short of an extremely close friend. Alia must have had a loose screw rolling around in her helm if she honestly believed her own awkward observations. Although the lime colored femme was usually correct in her frequent assumptions, just as she was correct in thinking that Orion would become the newly instated Prime. This was surly _not_one of those instances. It was too...odd, almost unreasonable. Although Renova was willing to admit that _'feelings' _had recently been building up for her superior Medic, she was sure that they were simply guilt-ridden emotions furthering their way into her processors due to her changing of sides. Nothing but sympathy and early regret.

"...I do not know what you are talking about."

"Of course not." Alia laughed before questioning her younger friend again.

"How is the doc anyway?"

"Okay. Guilty." The seeker grimaced while leaning farther back into the table; her wiring even more stiff than before from the lack of movement.

"Did he-...lose someone?"

"No. That is what I do not understand. He saved a scout on the field more than a few solar cycles ago, but was unable to fix his vocal components."

"Bumblebee?" Alia managed to recall the yellow Bot's name just from the overheard rumors. He'd lost his voice to Megatron nobly; refusing to disclose the information he was tortured for.

"Yes, they evacuated him to the closest Triage. Ratchet was the only suitable Medic who stood available."

"But...he saved him. What's with the guilt?"

"I am unsure as to why. He did nothing wrong." Renova examined the tips of her finger components as if uninterested; looking over the slim shine of the darkened metal.

"Wait…if it was a 'Con attack then the war's no longer frozen?" She just managed to piece it together? After all the chatter, gossip and talk Alia had _just now_ figured it out?

"It would appear so. After countless orns of inactivity the Decepticons launched a surprise invasion at Tiger Pax. The city is now a war zone."

"I at least knew _that_." The automobile watched Renova tense at the simple mention of violence. Her optics narrowed venomously at the floor and her spark seemed to dim at the outlook of the entire situation. She shared her mentor's guilt...Alia knew that. Her companion was too...emotionally self-destructive at times. She often blamed herself for downcast emotions brought upon her friends even when the blue femme had nothing to do with the original cause. She saw it as an elongated punishment for her bitter arrogance she released from time to time. It was obviously unfair...almost self-abuse of the mind.

There were several older Bots who said she was too naive to recognize actual emotions; too early out of sparkling years. That Renova still didn't understand everything, still didn't recognize right from wrong and where from when. Too inexperienced even with her growing age. But Alia hadn't seen her closest friend that way. If anything she was too mature, too smart, and too logical for her own good. She forced herself to explain things to others that weren't necessary and at rare occasions underestimated her own abilities. Yet...for all these good aspects...Renova beat herself down like everyone else had. Beside her coarse arrogance that was only seen during a foul mood or argument...the seeker had no respect for herself, or anyone above her. It was a despicable flaw.

"Of course. I am...sorry." She crossed her arms. Blue optics gave Alia a soft side glance in a sincere apology. She hadn't meant to insult her intelligence.

"It's okay." Alia smiled back.

Because Ratchet felt guilty...Renova felt guilty. The only difference was that Renova's guilt was caused by thinking _she'd_ caused his own. And Ratchet's? That was caused by an unavoidable failure.

* * *

Ratchet steadily walked into the room; eyeing the femme inside as she inspected a data-pad. She sighed and literally flung the useless piece of malfunctioned equipment across the table top with an agitated expression. The tablet had some kind of unfixable glitch! She swore on it! All it did was beep and give a blank screen before shutting off entirely, and then leaving her with no reliable source or notepad. Such a tiny thing could become such a huge inconvenience, just as such a small femme as herself could prove to be a large problem.

Ratchet couldn't help but stiffen a chuckle at the younger's defeated expression. Her lack of skill with smaller technological tinkering always managed to amaze the mech. She was a Medic, a gifted one, who could fix a processor and reassemble an entire chassis without serious complications...but a simple data-pad would cause her the worst of trouble. In a way it was painfully ironic, rather humorous.

"I thought you were leaving today." Of course she had expected him to ambush her with questions upon sight.

"Alia pleaded to stay for another orn or so."

"Smart femme." Renova managed to smile at his dry humor; watching as he crossed his arms as if winning an argument. That look of sensible pride was a frequent one, especially when around Ironhide or any visiting Wreckers who managed to bicker and cause verbal problems. She really couldn't blame Ratchet for unintentionally making them all look stupid...she had a tendency to do it herself when given the opportunity. It was her own personal definition of _'fun'._

"You can still attend, if you would like."

"Nova you know-"

"-I know, I know..._Optimus_." She rolled her optics.

"It's not just that. I'm _needed_ here...and so are you." Renova scoffed and seated herself at the base of the examination berth; looking to the floor moodily as she hugged her knees into her chestplate. She didn't even know why she was acting so childish...hell, she didn't even know why she was trying to convince him to go. As always his opinion and respect mattered to her more than most common things, but his presence was something that she'd convinced herself was unnecessary. Students move on, and teachers feel proud that they've released yet another bright mind into the world. That's how it worked.

"They do not need me. But...they do indeed require your services. You were and still are one of the best in Iacon." Ratchet smirked. Her arrogance was, for once, humbled down into empathy and emotional consideration. She had complimented him; that alone had recently become rare.

"Let's not get carried away." He again chuckled, recalling the days where she was too young to be so fickle and egotistic. She was less complex in both a visual and moral sense; somewhat humble and unsure about their expanding world. Nova had been...innocent. A simple teenager. Now she was further corrupted by this war and her own growing self-importance that the girl's rank had convinced her of. He was just lucky that she hadn't already grown to his own level of arrogance. Two consistently cranky Medics were bad enough.

"Of course not." That once peaceful silence became oddly awkward as the older studied her; leaning with his back against the wall as if observing every little detail about her. That baby blue color, those naturally wide optics, those down-pointed wings, and even the vents on the front of her legs. She was an easy picture to recall. He could even remember what she looked like before her last upgrade. "What are you staring at?"

She inquired with a tone of uncertainty.

"Nothing. You've just been acting more like a sparkling recently."

"And you have been watching me like a starved scraplet. It is not exactly comforting." Had she not smiled he would have taken her observation seriously. Embarrassment was not something he was in the mood for...especially after visiting Bumblebee in the infirmary.

"Very funny."

There it was...that awkward silence again.

She could have sworn that there was a thin air of tension...barely noticeable. But it was there.

"How is Bumblebee?" Ratchet shifted uncomfortably and unfolded his arms; letting them lean securely at his sides.

"Decent, he's stabilized…for now."

"You sound guilty."

"I...could have done better."

"No Medic could have done better." She smiled almost haughtily; looking to the door as someone knocked rather petulantly on the opposing side. Renova stood from the bottom edge of the examination berth, brushing the swiftly accumulated dust off of her upper leg plates.

"That is likely Toproller. He was injured scouting this morning. It was another reason we did not leave today." Ratchet nodded in response to her explanation, a vague feeling of annoyance poking his circuits at the mention of the femme-chasing seeker. Nova barely laughed at the roll of his optics, quickly sighing at another string of knocks while they echoed through the examination room. Ratchet typed in the access code with a little more force than necessary; irritation and mocking expressions being constant on his faceplate.

"Come in."

"Thanks Ren. Hey Ratch." Toproller gave a sideways grin and a cocky wink as he slid open the doors and slowly made his way into the dimly lit room. He was wincing with each step, causing Ratchet to shake his head and leave with a held back sigh. Dealing with idiots was mostly Renova's duty, and unfortunately it was something he would miss once she was gone.

* * *

"It is just an electro glitch. Nothing major, but if you continue to overwork yourself without something as little as rest you could eventually require an overhaul. Then possibly fry your circuits." Renova tapped a few links on her obviously malfunctioned data-pad, groaning at the slow loading connection and sighing as Toproller moaned from boredom.

"Are you always so serious at work?"

"Are you always so overconfident when scouting?"

"Hnn." The silver mech again made a rather agitated noise; the stiffness in his wiring striking a throbbing pain into his CPU. If it weren't for his damn teammates they'd probably be out of this scrap-heap of a base and into a Neutral congregation. Safe from this chaos...this atrocity that he grew sick of. It wasn't like he actually cared about the opinions of those who were going with him. He just grew bored of having one singular side to fight for, as if he gave a scrap about which allegiance he pledged to. But, he couldn't just ditch the Autobots alone…the mech needed a backup team if anything went wrong. A few scouts, a couple fighters, and a decent Medic would complete his party. It all seemed too perfect.

"When do we plan to leave?"

"As soon as I'm all fixed up. With that ambush on Tiger Pax we might as well pack up and go now. You're not needed here, are you?"

"There were very few casualties. They will not require another Base Medic. Although Field Medics do seem to be low."

"Ren, we need ta' get out of here. I'm tired of shooting everything I see like it's a threat. Alia-four, Blitzhitter, Flycom, Leap and Digger are all coming with. Don't change your processor now." Renova sighed before shutting off her data-pad and rubbing the lenses of her optics. Roller stood from the berth, his silver armor being scratched and scorched to a new extent of completely and utterly ruined. He held out his servo for her to take, as if making an offer she found hard to refuse. It was encouraging...like some kind of prize awaited in the palm of his hand for her to easily snatch.

"It's now or never, Ren." She squinted.

"Okay." She took his servo in hers trustfully, still seeming hesitant in her choice as the constant worry for her Mentor popped into her memory banks again and again. Ratchet would be so disappointed...and for an odd reason the mech already knew that his Nova would regret her decision.

It was just a feeling that had erupted at the base of his circuitry.

And hers as well.

* * *

**Thanks to all for the reviews and support! I appreciate it more than you know! ^^**


	3. Dark Medium

**Oc x Ratchet**

**Terminology You Might Not Know;**

**Rotator Cup; The shoulder.  
**

**Orn; Measurement of time equivalent to thirteen Earth days.**

**~Enjoy**

**Ch. 3; Dark Medium  
**

* * *

**Continued...**

* * *

"Care to explain what happened?" He raised a quizzical brow just as the doors slid shut; thankfully leaving Roller out in the hallway. The younger simply shrugged while carefully eyeing the infamous wench in his left servo. She hated that wrench.

The pain that that specific wrench alone had caused her was terrible. The dents, the scrapes, the blemishes...all from that stupid wrench. And now, as she timidly stared at its handler, the silver utensil mocked her very being while it twirled around Ratchet's index finger as if weightless. Both the tool and the Medic seemed threatening when paired together...too intimidating for such a measly gadget and its intolerant user.

"Just an electro glitch. He is perfectly capable of leading us out by the next orn." She scratched at her rotator cup while glancing at the data-pad, her patience with the slab wearing thin from its defiance and constant malfunctions.

"Delayed again?" Ratchet smirked as if triumphant and she sighed before placing the tablet off to the side.

"Despondently. It is very frustrating in having to wait another solar cycle before we depart. I am eager to leave."

"I know, it's quite obvious."

"What do you imply?" She narrowed her optics while taking a seat on a nearby table, dangling her stabilizing servos as she attempted to toy with a laser scalpel.

"Nothing. Although there are times where I suspect that you're too naive to understand what you plan to do." This upset her.

"We have already quarreled over my decision, was our earlier debate not taken seriously on your part?" She stood and set the scalpel aside, the blue of her frame seeming brighter under the recently shaky lights. They might have been experiencing technical difficulties within the base.

"No, I just want to try and talk you out of this Nova."

"Again? Do not waste your vocal circuits, I have already decided." He grimaced, and suddenly the tension felt more distant than uncomfortable. He couldn't decide which was worse.

"Fine."

"Why do you insist that I remain here? Where no one respects me?" Large round optics swiveled as she questioned his actions, her expression blank and stance loose. She desperately wanted to know...other than the usual answers of 'caring' and being her mentor. There was something else about this that made him uneasy, she could tell that he was keeping some outcome of her leave away from her. It was too obvious to not question.

"And why do you have such an irresponsible craving for respect you don't deserve?" He leaned forward as he raised his voice, the overall tone being stern and agitated.

"It is not a craving! I would just appreciate being treated fairly." The femme crossed her arms with a glare, quickly averting her gaze and clenching her wiring as if to visually explain her irritation. Craving? Who did he think he was? This was not some kind of energon need, just a decision she found easy to make.

"Fairly?"

"You never see it. Ask Ironhide, although we do not usually 'get along' he has openly expressed his thoughts on how wrongly most of the scouts act." He watched as she swallowed and seated herself back into the table edge; crossing her legs and stifling a sigh. Those feelings again, those inconsistent feelings that she despised with every sensible part of her being. That feeling of ache because he hadn't noticed her discomfort, and more recently her unidentifiable expressions of who-knows-what. Alia's recent banter on their obvious 'relationship' had convinced her that something had formed...at least a bond after all these vorns. Anything more would forebode a tragedy.

"That's why you're leaving? Are you serious? Nova the scouts give all of the Medics trouble." She frowned. He didn't get it, and his impatient response struck a wire beside her spark.

"Perhaps, but you are not a femme who is constantly suspected of assisting in Decepticon activities."

This was true. He wouldn't deny that. Ever since her removal from the academy everyone treated her like a traitor, as if they couldn't trust her with a pint of energon much less their circuits. And Ironhide? The two never got along, almost rivals, so having Renova even bring up his name much less repeat his opinions couldn't be taken lightly. She was always truthful, so he couldn't deny it. And for once...Ratchet was incapable of finding the proper response.

"Why didn't you _at least_ tell me?" In came his protective, angry, stern side. The side of her mentor that was easily welcomed because of his concern for her, and some cycles was sighed over because he acted like a creator. That was the last thing she wanted him to be.

And in came that awkward silence.

The response was easy, and Renova repeated it again and again in her processor, thinking of the numerous reactions he would exhibit in response to her thoughts. In all honesty she just wanted him to care.

"I had figured that you were already aware."

That hurt. He didn't reply.

* * *

**Medical Room**

* * *

They were flickering. The lights in the medical room seemed to shake with each flash of the annoying and rather distracting source. It continued to bug the femme to the point of groaning from irritation as well as distract the Medic from her fragile tinkering at an extra sparkchamber. Yet through her irritation there was a thin sense of fear etched stiffly on her faceplate; one that was easily notable and, had she not been alone, would have been questioned upon sight. It was delicate in appearance...that look of anxiety alone. Her thin metal brows pinched together as she stared to the ceiling lights with pursed lip components and a frozen frame. For once she seemed...terrified.

Renova, being the arrogant and naive student she is, was never one to be afraid. Or in better terms; had never publicly encountered something to be afraid of. Around her superiors she was bratty, rather ostentatious and vain with the usual faceplate of defiance. But around the average patient and her friends she was kind...pleasant with a smile and a scarce laugh to lighten her beaten spirits. A mask that was indeed real...more of a second face than a cover. It was like a different perspective of the femme that only the few she actually got along with saw. But...this expression. This was new over her faceplates, rather foreign even to herself, and in response to the odd sensation she was glad that Ratchet had left earlier.

She looked back down to the sparkchamber and winced as the room began flickering again as if attempting to pester her.

On an off...on and off...on and...

Renova released a heavy gasp as the base went dark without power. The sky was dimming...although it already seemed like nothing it continued to slowly darken to an even colder extent behind the gas and pollution that consumed the air of Cybertron. As if an ongoing plague. Pitch black.

It scared her. It terrified her to the point of squeamishness. The Medic suddenly felt the need to purge her digestive tanks at the uncomfortably solid feeling forming in her circuitry. It felt like someone was squeezing her abdomen with an unconfined strength, trying to crack her inner pipes.

**_*clink*_**

A noise. She jumped from her frozen position and stood from her chair; wobbling back and transforming one arm with her blaster and extending the other forward with her wrist light focused on the door. The meager light was shifting dramatically; following the shaking of her arm as she tensed at yet another noise filtering throughout the room. It echoed, seeming magnified with each everlasting second that tortured her mind with uncertainty and fear. Another simple **_*clank*_** met the femme's audio receptors from behind her...each little sound that would normally go completely unnoticed being focused on and seen as a threat due to her surroundings. Renova's processor played tricks on her in the dark...and the seeker was always unsure of what was real and what was imagined up from a simple paranoia. She suddenly missed the company of her mentor.

_***tap***_

Someone was at the entrance...there was no doubt. Nova swallowed hard as the access panel was toyed with and the doors conveniently took their time to fully open. She released a steady sob as Ratchet entered; his own shoulder light extended and revealing his obviously shaken student as she pointed her rarely used weapon at his head from across the room. Her blaster was lowered and transformed back into her arm as if hurriedly relieved.

The sight of the older Medic pulled a heavy burden of uneasiness off of her shoulder-plates in a second. His simple presence was enough to calm her for the time being...because he was someone she easily trusted. Still, the dark consumed the edges of her form as Cybertron's suns fully set...and the base was encased in a scattered darkness caused by a glitch in the main wiring of the power generators.

"Thank P-Primus."

"Renova, what happened?" He approached her; setting a firm servo on her shoulder while pulling her closer as an unnecessary gesture of comfort. Blue optics focused on that fear-formed expression as she literally vibrated from anxiousness, and he could easily smell her coolant as her own body struggled to keep its temperature down.

"Nothing. I-...I-..." She couldn't make a decent excuse. She wasn't good at lying...not like Alia-Four was.

"You're afraid of the dark." The phrase was more of a smugly voiced statement rather than a question or inquiry to her strange actions. At this point it was obvious...she was too terrified to even move much less confess the fact verbally.

She simply nodded.

"I've always figured." He gave a somewhat cruel smirk at her embarrassment, one that thankfully implied humor rather than bitterness. Wait...he always figured? So he knew?

"How did you know?"

"Oh please...you always had some kind of light on after dark. Even now in your private quarters. The way you would curl up in a ball while in recharge hinted at that as well." The Medic crossed his arms, chuckling, and smiled as she leaned further against him; the smaller noises of shifting objects in the room still keeping her wary of any movement. Then it hit her.

"I-...I curl up when I recharge?" That proper tone she usually carried behind her voice was dimmed down for a brief moment into something childish and panicky. She was surprised, that sudden feeling of embarrassment and disbelief taking her mind off of the dark.

"Every time _I've_ seen you."

"That is...embarrassing." Nova buried her face into her open servos with a shaken groan. Had it been emotionally possible Nova would have died right there and then. The thought that her mentor had caught her curled up while in recharge was simply degrading. It was humorously pathetic.

"Well...so is being afraid of the dark." Renova sighed as he chuckled again rather unnaturally. Ratchet hardly laughed...almost never. It just...wasn't in his character much less his list of things to do. He was always too busy, too preoccupied to listen to a joke or find humor in a story. He was dedicated to his work...dedicated to being busy on a consistent basis. In a way so was she...but her minimal social life had its personal days to sweep her away from the consistent stress.

"It is not funny."

"I beg to differ."

"Hmph."

There was that unnerving silence again. That silence that had always been seen as comfortable, but had recently become awkward. Renova swallowed at the uninviting fogginess that the room seemed to execute, the fact that Ratchet lent against the wall beside her was somehow not helping. He was just there...not making any attempt at reassuring her nor making his presence any more aware than it already was. He was _trying _to make her uncomfortable, he was _trying_ to make her hate him...that was the plan. The more she detested him the less he enjoyed her company...and the less he would miss the femme once she was gone. He wouldn't worry so much, and hopefully he would forget about her after a vorn or so. But that outcome was unlikely...their relationship...it was expanding into something other than a Medic and his assistant. What a cliché story, so predictable. Still, Ratchet couldn't help it.

"Honestly, what do you plan to accomplish by leaving?" She slightly jolted as he spoke; her arm light exposing the door panels as someone walked down the hall; her wings twitched with anxiety as a silent response.

"..."

"Well?" She rolled her optics.

"A peaceful medium between chaotic murder and justified executions." She huffed as the lights flickered again; going dark within the same instance. Disappointment crossed her faceplate.

"So you're just leaving for...murder?" She elbowed his chest-plate with a crass expression before tensing at another unnerving sound made up by the creative workings of her processor. The reason didn't seem right, it didn't sound like the femme beside him at all.

"No. A lack of it."

**_*bang*_**

The noise echoed from somewhere close by, her spark skipping a beat as she registered the sound and backed further away from the door. Ratchet would have laughed at her pathetic reaction had she not been on the brink of tears. Instead he sighed as she hugged his arm; seeming like a sparkling in her odd attempt at comfort. The tugging sensation on his plating was, at first, annoying in the sense of her sudden burst of immaturity. But she didn't care. Whatever it was...whoever it was...in the dark it was hidden, unknown, cold and timid in the sense of aggression.

"Ratchet." She whimpered his name out of sheer fear and backed against him further, the sudden embarrassment of her actions dimming with the consistent paranoia of her hidden surroundings. She was suddenly and oddly thankful it was dark, the heat of her faceplate going unnoticed as the metal turned a darker shade, but the faint sound of her cooling fans was obvious...and she couldn't help but wonder if the older had chosen to ignore the sound rather than pick on her for it.

"And _you're_ leaving to become an Excess?" He shook his head and smiled in disbelief, pondering over the outcome of her departure, completely oblivious to her flustered air as well as her embarrassment. He focused on the fact that she was terrified of something so common, and he couldn't even offer proper comfort.

She was shaking and absolutely terrified by something as meager as a lack of light, incapable of serious movement much less work. She needed consolation; perhaps the reassurance of security to assist her with such a seemingly trivial dilemma. Ratchet just...didn't know how. Instead of taking advantage of such a perfect situation and holding her close like any witty mech would do, he placed a heavy servo on her shoulder; at least reminding the femme that he was there while scolding himself at his actions of consideration. She tensed further, unsure of what to assume.

The action was simple, but it wasn't anything special. It wasn't at all what she would prefer it to be. He wanted her to hate him, but Ratchet couldn't bring himself to do it. He would regret it too much.

* * *

**Okay...really late here. Hehe. Sorry about that...but I'm sure you understand withal this crap I have to accomplish. What a time consuming hassle. -_-**.

I'll also be working on and hopefully uploading my _**Soundwave**_ x Oc fic. That's EXTREMELY late. As in more than just a couple of months late.

* * *

Thanks Guys! Love you!

**Review for me? I would really appreciate some feedback by this point. c:**


	4. Promises

**Oc x Ratchet**

**~Enjoy**

**Ch. 4; Promises  
**

* * *

"I think I'm losing my mind, Nova." She says it as though bewildered, a servo to her head, slim digits arched against the metal of her forehelm. Alia squinted at her own disorientation, still accepting of the fact that Renova is beyond furious with the automobile for some unvoiced reason.

"Considering we have had the conversation of unexplainable loss in CPU data, I assume you are speaking of something purely unsubstantiated." Though this was the smartest thing she'd said all day, it was still arrogantly put. There was this irritation, this unnecessary need to act like a complete bitch despite her friend's obliviousness to such cruelly stated integrity. Alia was often like a child, wether it be from plain unintended ignorance or just the personal requirement of appearing nice and seeming innocent.

"Well, you know what I mean." She snapped back, a rather odd action implying legitimate frustration. It was the fact that Alia had convinced her of the 'non-existent feelings' towards her instructor. Bitter towards the truth, almost. Either way, that seemed unimportant in comparison to the malfunctions of her optical circuitry.

The green femme set her back against the wall, optics rotating in and out of focus, memory core highlighting several more recent instances in the cycle and bringing them to the front of her cortex as she attempted to single out each scene. She relayed them several times, ensuring that she'd been justified in her paranoia.

"It is probably nothing."

"Renova I'm serious. Look through my memory modules...something's not right." Yet another feeling of instinct that rumbled in her piping...but the mentally blunt femme had no proper way of voicing the cycle's oddities. Strange things. Off things.

"Well?" Half expectant and half hopeless, knowing there would be no straight or understandable answer.

"The air was _moving_." She stated it with the usual uncertainty, a single digit tapping against the table consistently. A once audio-convulsing sound that'd, after vorns of listening to, had become nothing but a background noise. An alert of the other's presence at most.

"Alia the air is in _constant_ motion." A sigh, an impatient sigh that would have never come out so crudely had she not been complete infuriated with her best friend for no understandable reason.

"No, I mean...it was like somebot was there." The car's wheels spun in her ankles nervously, the non-existent details visibly driving her into a fit of annoyance with her own lack of attentive observation. But...she was suddenly making a bit more sense. She knew it because Nova had turned and provided her full attention despite the sour attitude, blue optics swiveling in serious thought. A bitter play of actions. She turned back around as though intentionally ignoring her.

"Why are you so mad?"

"I am not mad."

"You're such a bad liar."

"Speak for _yourself_." She tapped at a datapad, frustrated with the device. "Are you packed?"

She hesitated. "…Yes."

* * *

She'd made the only mistake possible at this point, staring with a very plain countenance at the few she was leaving behind. Her optics shuttered, looking at the haul of the ship and back to the group seeing off their departure like some lost intern. She would leave ensured safety, resources and patients in the shadow of her retreating form and hopefully gain enough self-control to never look back. All for what?

For her cause? Being a neutral had no cause.

It was a very bleak line, a very vague, slim and nearly transparent line that was often murdered for existing. Or...was the in between a line at all? Perhaps the Excess weren't even included on the scale...maybe they had no legitimate ground anywhere near the footing of the two ultimate factions. But, as she thought over the countless arguments and considered how unfair the many assumptions of her trust were, Renova found the line of separation between Autobot and Decepticon something other than what was left. That thin line, that difference, was composed of the bladed contrast between two philosophies: that all sentient beings had freedom, and that physical might earned what little freedom one could obtain, something that was often too true to be denied. It was a mess, every oration and every revolt coiled into something much more dangerous than the last act of violence or the last act of valor.

Her thoughts had made her indecisive. At the last minute of course. She couldn't bring herself to step pede on the drop ship, and the reason was unfortunately clear as to why.

"Ratchet." He'd been observing her uncertainty, eying every move of hesitation and scolding himself for being so favorable towards what was against her ambitions. The Medic took a step forward, reaching out a bit to survey the subject's response as he would normally do with a wounded patient, and exchanged a quick glance of concern with the awaiting Alia-four, who stood with a bleak smile.

"Are you alright...Nova?" He asked it slow, still uncertain of himself rather than her. His digits curled at the abrupt sound of the ship's onlined thrusters, the noise snuffing anything farther off.

"I will miss you." Her vocalizer betrayed her CPU, her wings sinking low against her back plates and her shoulders slumping in response to such a comment.

This overwhelming sense of hope in such a hesitant response made him physically react, setting a heavy servo over her shoulder-plate and hastily leading her off the boarding platform. Before he could  
spark a debate she embraced him, a rather shocking form of contact that made him go stiff. He could hear her intake manifolds shutter a sigh.

"I will contact you upon our arrival." She smiled a bit, removing her hold, stepping back and finding herself colliding with Alia as a result.

"Let's go...I guess." The green femme shrugged, waving a fluid servo at the several monitoring their departure, optics glinting with uncertainty as Renova stepped past her and winced over her shoulder.

She never realized how much this would physically ache. Roller winked at her from the doorway, an encouraging servo outstretched far enough for Ratchet to respond with a low groan of disapproval. Alia shrugged and boarded, hands on her hips as she looked out of the rear window in an effort to ignore the glares of impatience beating on her panel hinges.

"Renovations..." She turned a bit more at her full name, optics perking as the door began sliding shut. "Just...don't end up offlined."

"I will attempt to _avoid_ such situations." Her lip components quirked into something resembling an anxious smirk, aimed almost bashfully at the floor panels of the ship's outer platform.

"Nova, you know you can stay." She grinned, sly and rather subtle compared to most ostentatious reflections of emotion the automobile would freely exhibit. The green of her abdomen lights brightened as the sub grew closer to the planet's bordered horizon, and she winced as Toproller yelled a crude remark to hurry and board.

"Hurry the frag up!"

"Just stay! I'll stay with you if you want." She truly wouldn't mind. Alia's CPU was torn between the correct action to take and the uneasy feeling dwelling in her digestive tanks. Although she'd been informed it was nothing but a lack of consistent energon refuels, as well as recharge, but something was off. Was it leaving? Or perhaps it was staying? Now there were doubts. The femme had never considered that staying was what initiated the negative responses of her sensory nodes...and now she was completely uncertain.

The jet sighed, her optics shuttering as Ratchet turned to leave out of sheer impatience and bitterness towards her leave.

"You go, Alia. I will stay another cycle to ensure no other medical support is required."

A poor excuse, really, but it would do. And another pang of abnormal discord rung itself through her circuits, the thought of leaving her friend behind almost nauseating. The medic strutted forward at a much too eager pace, waving back to Ratchet and watching with an unnecessarily satisfied expression as Ironhide dulled and groaned in angst.

"Nova wait! There's-"

"Do not concern yourself! I will see you in less than a few joors!" She yelled over the bellowing noise, the platform pulling back into the ship. Roller grunted the go ahead, displeased, optics narrowing and servos shifting the gears before rising into the air with unnecessary haste. "Also, I swear I am no longer upset!"

Both smiled.

"Promise?!" A word being carelessly thrown around this cycle, she noted. Ratchet barely chuckled, the smile dulling at a fast pace but still visible enough to prove that he _had_ exhibited a form of optimism. She exchanged a waved almost awkwardly. Yet she found no hesitation in retorting with a raised voice, still attempting communication over the swift courses of loud air from the slowly rising ship.

"I pro-" An even louder noise erupted from the base, her optics offlining for only a second and audio receptors buzzing in turmoil. Her stabilizing pedes left the ground before her frame was thrown across the launch pad like a piece of flimsy scrap, slamming into number out objects before being subjected to a stinging heat against her chassis. Renova onlined into full functionality, hurrying to stand among the flaked and brittle debris encased around her, sparks and fire proving sudden as they drifted from their base and floated into the coiling wind.

The sky was still black, the newly spewed pillars of smoke adding to the pollution as a spark-aching luminosity from the flames shown against each obsidian cloud. The conflagration seemed to surround her peculiarly, making her think quickly as to which tower had collapsed and if Ratchet was still online. The thought sent her into a panicked fit before she looked up and realized she was still on the launch pad and the dropship had been shot out of the air. For a moment her spark had ceased pulsing, the ache sudden and apparent at the sight of what was left. Mere piles of tainted burnt metal nearly degraded into ashes lay all around, the smell of death and heard energon making her choke on the air within her intake manifolds.

An arm snagged her by the abdomen, yanking her out of the path of a falling turbine before it slammed against the flooring and sent up a wave of sparks. Her struggles suddenly ceased as she looked up to see Ironhide hoisting her over his shoulder and sprinting to avoid blasters. The sounds were only now processed, agonizing yelps of pathetic helplessness and the pained grunts of heated determination. The west hanger was nothing but an aflame skeleton of its former structure, the inner workings looked to be hollowed out like a bowl and filled with the brutal flickering of orange and blue heat. She set herself into action, slamming a tiny servo at the older's back before squinting at the tightening of his hold.

"Is Ratchet functioning?" A hint of concern, worry and pain struck her hard. Her helm ached for a moment, the jet completely oblivious to any possible answer.

"He's fine!"

Honest relief...for only a moment.

"Put me down!" There was _very_ little hesitation in him doing so.

"Prime sent out a rendezvous point! Meet ya' there!" He dropped the femme to her feet, possibly the kindest words he'd ever said to her echoing over his gun fire before he transformed in the distance.

* * *

Everyone was to be on the field, no exceptions. Scouts, Spec Ops, snipers, scientists, grounders, flyers, infiltrators. All table Medics, even assistants. At first she hadn't understood why, the countless possibilities of what exactly had happened filtering through her CPU until a relayed explanation and order was fed through the comm. Even as she ran over an elevated cross-way, leading from one balcony to what remained of the observatory, she was still wrung into a panicked confusion as to how this could have happened. And upon sight of the current exchange of bullets the only word she could muster as definition was 'grotesque'. There was constant blaster fire, from path blasters to gear shredders, ripping across the flat zone of the forcibly unused speed track.

Her optics altered her focus, scanning every chassis below the bridge in a crumpled heap, the number of offlined outweighing those with visually responding vitals that appeared on her HUD. She jumped down, a pain alerting her sensors to do a self-diagnostic. Major lacerations to the chassis, nothing but external wounds and the smallest leak in her fuel line.

She would be fine...for now.

* * *

It was here, crouched over a convulsive Jetfire, that she realized this war had, for the most part, been boring. And boring is how she'd liked it, not once in her former youth had she ever imagined boring to be so appreciated. Because now, at the peak of excitement, she was ill with sickening worry and sadness that infected every wire of her being. Her finger components were stained with energon, dripping the fluid as she fiddled with the remaining contents in her emergency pack. She looked up for a moment of observation, caution evident in every hasty movement she made. She hadn't seen Ratchet, nor Hoist or any fellow medic on her end of the field. And there were countless laying immobile within an arm's distance.

She stole one last glance around the area, the literal sound of crackling fire and weapons drowning out the yells of agony in the background. Renova returned her focus to Jetfire, noting it'd been a full two kliks since she'd received any form of communication.

There was no damage to his front, excluding heated scorch marks that left nothing but a small ache on his frame. She flipped him over, HUD scanning for any internal damages. No ruptures, no split wires or loosened pipelines. Just a leak in the rear midsection and the merciless crumple of his wings. Her servos moved with a familiar swiftness against his panels, removing a clamp and holding still the leak that spurted forward out of a burned energon line. A shot to the back had caused the spill, the majority of his pain enforced by the left extremity being bent in such a manner that, as a fellow flyer, made her grimace with an odd sympathy.

A close explosion, one distinctly of a thermo rocket cannon, sent her forward and over the unconscious patient until she rolled into the partly-buckled and disjointed legs of another.

"Ironhide, you incompetent brute." She muttered pulling herself up and bashing him with the back of her servo, watching him limp to the side while firing shots in his wake.

"Hurry up and fix it, will ya'?" He just yelled, as always, rather disgruntled at the fact that Renova, out of all the Medics, had been the one to stumble upon him in such a demeaning state. Jetfire was mended, she could assist. "We've got the entire Decepticon army knocking at our door..."

She ignored that awful sound of doubt he muttered, the fact being that if Ironhide was even the slightest bit worried that she should be a panicked mess rolling on the floor in the fetal position. But she word keep calm, because panic was the last thing Ratchet would do much less allow.

"The joint cannot be salvaged, you will need a replacement immediately. Return to base, unnecessary use may lead to-"

"-_Don't_ tell me what the Pit to do!" She sighed behind him, quickly aiming her blaster with a vague remembrance of how to even shoot. A group Vehicons approached, their frames distinct in comparison to the actual soldiers. Their creation had put the Decepticons at a large advantage, one that was proving itself in the current exchange of gunfire.

Renova stiffened and shot, the pain of loss and guilt tearing at her transistors, and the thought of dying with Ironhide was just as depressing. But the worst part…the very thought of recognition that sent guilt and pain and anguish into her systems…was the realization that Alia-four was dead.

* * *

**Review for me? I would really appreciate some feedback by this point. c:**


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